“Number Nine?”
“Well, I certainly think she’s one of us. Whether she’s Number Nine or not remains to be seen.”
“Why? There’s nothing really extraordinary about pulling a man from rubble.”
“Look,” Henri says, and then scrolls to the top of the article. There is a picture of a large slab of concrete at least a foot thick, eight feet long and wide. “This is what she lifted to save him. It must weigh five tons. And look at this,” he says, and scrolls back to the bottom of the page. He highlights the very last sentence. It reads: “Sofia Garcia could not be found for comment.”
I read the sentence three times. “She couldn’t be found,” I say.
“Exactly. She didn’t
“How did they know her name?”
“It’s a small town, less than a third the size of Paradise. Most everyone would know her name there.”
“She left, didn’t she?”
Henri nods. “I think so. Probably before the paper was even published. That’s the downfall of small towns; it’s impossible to remain unnoticed.”
I sigh. “Hard for the Mogadorians to go unnoticed too.”
“Precisely.”
“Sucks for her,” I say, and stand up. “Who knows what she must have left behind.”
Henri gives me a skeptical look, opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it and goes back to the computer. I return to my bedroom. I pack my bag with a fresh change of clothes and the books I’ll need for the day. Back to school. I’m not looking forward to it, though it’ll be nice to see Sam again, whom I haven’t seen in nearly two weeks.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m off.”
“Have a good day. Be safe out there.”
“See you this afternoon.”
Bernie Kosar rushes out of the house ahead of me. He’s a ball of energy this morning. I think he’s come to look forward to our morning runs, and the fact that we haven’t done one in a week and a half has him chomping at the bit to get back to it. He keeps up with me for most of the run. Once we make it I give him a good pet and scratch behind his ears.
“All right, boy, go home,” I say. He turns and starts trotting back to the house.
I take my time in the shower. By the time I finish, other students are beginning to arrive. I walk the hall, stop by my locker, then go to Sam’s. I slap him on the back. It startles him, then he flashes a big toothy grin when he sees that it’s me.
“I thought I was going to have to whip somebody’s ass there for a minute,” he says.
“Just me, my friend. How was Illinois?”
“Ugh,” he says, and rolls his eyes. “My aunt made me drink tea and watch reruns of
I laugh. “That sounds awful.”
“It was, trust me,” he says, and reaches into his bag. “This was waiting in the mail when we got back.”
He hands me the latest issue of
“There is nothing on us or the Mogadorians,” he says.
“Good,” I say. “They must fear us after you visited them.”
“Yeah, right.”
Over Sam’s shoulder I see that Sarah is coming our way. Mark James stops her in the middle of the hallway and hands her a few sheets of orange paper. Then she continues on her way.
“Hi, gorgeous,” I say when she reaches us. She stands on her toes to kiss me. Her lips taste like strawberry lip balm.
“Hi, Sam. How are you?”
“Good. How’re you?” he asks. He seems at ease with her now. Before the incident with Henri, which was a month and a half ago, being in Sarah’s presence would have made him uncomfortable, and he wouldn’t have been able to meet her eye or know what to do with his hands. But now he looks at her and smiles, speaking with confidence.
“Good,” she says. “I’m supposed to give you both one of these.”
She hands us each one of the orange sheets Mark just gave her. It’s a party invitation for this upcoming Saturday night at his house.
“I’m invited?” Sam asks.
Sarah nods. “All three of us are.”
“Do you want to go?” I ask.
“Maybe we could give it a shot.”
I nod. “You interested, Sam?”
He looks past Sarah and me. I turn to see what he is looking at, or rather who. At a locker across the hall is Emily, the girl who was on the hayride with us, and who Sam has been pining for ever since. When she walks past she sees that Sam is watching her and she smiles politely.
“Emily?” I say to Sam.
“Emily what?” Sam asks, looking back at me.
I look at Sarah. “I think Sam likes Emily Knapp.”
“I do not,” he says.
“I could ask her to come to the party with us,” Sarah says.
“Do you think she would go?” Sam asks.
Sarah looks at me. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t invite her since Sam doesn’t like her.”
Sam smiles. “Okay, fine. I just, I don’t know.”
“She kept asking why you never called after the hayride. She kind of likes you.”
“That is true,” I say. “I’ve heard her say it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” says Sam.
“You never asked.”
Sam looks down at the flyer. “So it’s this Saturday?”
“Yes.”
He looks up at me. “I say we go.”
I shrug. “I’m in.”
Henri is waiting for me when the final bell rings. As always, Bernie Kosar is in the passenger seat, and when he sees me, his tail begins wagging a hundred miles an hour. I jump into the truck. Henri puts it into gear and drives away.
“There was a follow-up article on the girl in Argentina,” Henri says.
“And?”
“Just a short article saying that she has disappeared. The mayor of the town is offering a modest reward for information on her whereabouts. It sounds like they believe she’s been kidnapped.”
“Are you worried about the Mogadorians having gotten to her first?”
“If she’s Nine, like the note we found indicated, and the Mogadorians were tracking her, it’s a good thing that she vanished. And if she’s been captured, the Mogadorians can’t kill her—they can’t even hurt her. That gives us hope. The good thing, aside from the news itself, is that I imagine every Mogadorian on Earth has poured into Argentina.”
“Speaking of which, Sam had the latest issue of
“Was there anything in it?”
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think there would be. Your levitation trick seemed to affect them rather profoundly.”
When we arrive home I change clothes and meet Henri in the backyard for our day of training. Working while consumed with fire has gotten easier. I don’t get as flustered as I did on that first day. I can hold my breath longer, close to four minutes. I have more control over the objects I lift, and I can lift more of them at the same time. Little
